


the yellow brick road

by invisiblyinked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, and road trip shenanigans, bro!fic, but sort of canonverse au i guess, how does this stuff work, i just wanted happy bro!fics, just a bunch of drabble things, not really focused on pairings, sort of, the boys being bros, there is no real plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisiblyinked/pseuds/invisiblyinked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>no, see, 'cause Jackson actually doesn't know shit, Stiles is brilliant and road trips are fucking <i>magical</i> — scott, stiles, isaac, jackson, bro!fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. here's looking at you kid

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse for writing this except my own entertainment.  
> also, i just want happy fun times okay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i have a great idea. you're gonna love it. i'm incredible."

 

* * *

**  
**  


**1\. — here’s looking at you kid**

* * *

 

It was the middle of summer vacation and Scott was being really pathetic and whiny and heartbroken and all kicked-puppy-like because Allison had moved away to Pennsylvania. He was lying on his bed, feet hanging over the edge with his headphones in his ears. Probably listening to something really sappy. Stiles hoped it wasn’t Taylor Swift, which was, as everyone knew, the point of no return.

 

All in all, it was really bringing down Stiles hyped-up-hell-yeah-it’s-summer-bitch mood.

 

He didn’t even really understand it, Allison wasn’t _that_ hot (except yeah, she was actually totally bammin’ slammin’ bootylicious , 10/10, congrats Scott).

 

But still.

 

Bringing down his mood.

 

Stiles, deciding that enough was enough, snatched the headphones out of Scott’s ears. The boy didn’t even move. Incredible.

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Stiles said, “This is the summer before our senior year. No alpha pack to worry about, no mythical creatures trying to kill us every other weekend—Scott we are supposed to be having the time of our lives.”

 

Scott sat up. It was weird talking to Stiles from this position.

 

“But _Allison_.”

 

“Left two weeks ago,” Stiles said.

 

“Really? It feels like months.” Scott stared off into the distance wistfully. Stiles seriously considered slapping him out of it. It would be so _easy._

 

But then he got an idea (a truly genius idea because he was Stiles Motherfuckin’ Stilinski)

 

“Dude, let’s go see Allison.”

 

“You mean like a road trip?”

 

“Did someone say road trip?” Isaac said, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

 

“What the _fu_ —”

 

“I wanna go.”

 

Scott frowned. “You can’t. Who’s gonna look after my mom?”

 

Isaac rolled his eyes. “Your mother is a very capable woman. She’ll be fine.”

 

“Who’ll be fine?” Scott’s mother asked, passing by the hall, hastily putting in an earring as she got ready to go to work. Scott sighed.

 

“Stiles and Isaac want to go visit Allison via road trip,” Scott explained.

 

“Oh. That’s good. You haven’t seen her in a long time right? Maybe this trip will be good for you,” Melissa said.

 

Scott blinked and sprang up from his bed, walking towards his mother. “What—wait, Mom, are you saying you’ll let me go?”

 

“Well, yeah. I guess. You guys _are_ going to be seniors, close to college bound.” She put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I trust you. And I know you can take care of yourself.”

 

“But who’s gonna take care of _you_?” he asked and Melissa smiled.

 

“I’m a big girl Scott. I can take care of myself. And besides,” she said, “If anything happens I’ve got Sheriff Stilinski around.”

 

Stiles blanched. Scott didn’t even want to _know_ what that could have meant.

 

She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later. Bye boys,” she said and left. Stiles and Scott looked at each other.

 

“Do you think—?”

 

“Ew, no. No I do not.”

 

“Who the fuck cares,” Isaac interrupted, “we’re going on a _road trip_.” He whooped loudly then proceeded to high five Stiles.

 

Scott, for some reason, was very worried.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> la la la~  
> i'm gonna have so much fun with this. SO MUCH FUN


	2. you can't sit with us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i don't remember inviting you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's dedicated to Stiles' Jeep.

* * *

**  
**  


**2\. — you can’t sit with us**

* * *

**  
**  


Scott threw his bag in the trunk of Stiles’ Jeep and rubbed at his eyes, yawning. Four in the morning was an _unholy_ hour. Especially during summer. No one should be up at this time ever actually.

 

“What the hell’s taking Isaac so long?” Stiles asked. Scott shrugged.

 

“I don’t know, he should be coming down soon—”

 

“I CALL SHOTGUUUUUN,” Isaac yelled running out of the house, grinning. He’d _always_ wanted to say that.

 

Stiles and Scott gave him a look and put a finger to their lips in the universal gesture of ‘ _shhh_.’ Seriously, was he trying to wake up the whole neighborhood?

 

“My bad,” he said and put his own duffel bag into the trunk. He slammed it shut and clapped his hands together. “Let’s get this show on the road boys.”

 

“Hell yeah!” Stiles exclaimed, running over to the driver’s side and even Scott grinned, feeling better about this whole thing. In a couple days he’d be able to see _Allison_.

 

But then all of that was ruined.

 

“I heard you losers were going on a road trip.”

 

“What the _fu_ —”

 

“I want in,” Jackson said. There was a backpack slung over his shoulder and a shit-eating smirk on his face.

 

“Who even _told you_?” Stiles looked at Scott who only shrugged in a “wasn’t me” manner. Isaac looked very guilty.

 

“I... _might_ have let it slip into conversation yesterday that we were going to visit Allison,” he confessed.

 

“ _Isaac_!” Scott and Stiles both exclaimed.

 

“You know, you can’t really blame me. Jackson’s a sneaky bastard.” No one denied this.

 

Stiles sighed and—well, you know what? He wasn’t even mad anymore because maybe Jackson could be useful. As in, Jackson’s _money_ could be really useful (gas, food—why didn’t they invite him _before_?)

 

“Ugh. We’re taking Stilinski’s ugly ass Jeep?”

 

Oh. Right.

 

“You,” Stiles said, pointing, “You are sitting in the trunk.”


	3. hit the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "this is my _jam_ "

 

 

* * *

**  
**

**3\. — hit the road**

* * *

 

Jackson sat in the backseat, arms crossed, and a perpetual scowl on his face. He hated everything. But mostly Stiles’ shitty Jeep—and no, fuck whatever Stilinsky said, his car was a piece of crap and it was a wonder that it hadn’t even broken down yet or something in the whole two hours they’d been on the road.

 

For one thing, it was ugly and clunky and nothing at all like his  _precious_ , sleek and beautiful porsche.

 

Also, his seatbelt, and _only_  his, was a tricky little thing (as in it didn’t work) and kept doing that thing where it kept locking whenever he tried to loosen it up a bit and practically  _strangled_  him whenever Stilinsky would suddenly stop at a red light and the car would jerk forward.

 

Jackson was at least 98% sure that the little fucker was doing it on purpose (he looked him in the eye through the rearview mirror and  _smirked_  and Jackson—yeah he was gonna kick his ass when they got out of the car).

 

“What is this  _crap_  we’re listening to,” Jackson sneered. Stiles’ glared from the driver’s seat.

 

“Um, excuse you, Selena Gomez is a _queen._ ”

 

“You know Jackson, all you’ve done since we left is complain,” Scott said, “Why’d you even want to come in the first place?”

 

“Yeah, because I sure as  _hell_  don’t remember inviting you,” Stiles said.

 

“Weren’t you supposed to be spending time with Lydia or something?” Isaac added.

 

“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, remembering, “Doing that whole bonding thing. Trying to start over as friends? She sounded like she was looking forward to it.” Stiles ignored the ‘how did you know all of that’ looks they gave him. Lydia told him things. They were practically best friends now.  _Serious_  progress since the beginning of like,  _elementary school_ , if you asked Stiles.

 

Jackson narrowed his eyes at them all. “It’s none of your business dweebs.” There was a collective rolling of the eyes from the other three passengers. Jackson swore he hated them.

 

And this car. God, he hated this car.

 

“Someone change the fucking song before I kill someone.”

 

Isaac snorted in amusement. “Like you could.”

 

Jackson flipped him off and Scott sighed, exasperated. Seriously, he wasn’t even gonna  _try_  to mediate.

 

“Alright, alright,” Stiles said, “Since  _her highness_  is about to have a bitch fit—”

 

“Fuck you—”

 

“Anyone got anyone song requests—no, Jackson fuck off.”

 

He muttered a string of expletives under his breath and Stiles pretended not to hear him. Scott closed his eyes, resting his head against his seat. He wasn’t gonna be part of this (but he wasn’t gonna stop it either because that took too much effort and seriously he only wanted to see Allison).

 

In the passenger’s seat Isaac smirked. “I vote we just turn up the music.”

 

Stiles grinned, his hand already reaching for the volume knob. “Excellent idea.”

 

Jackson glared at the both of them. If looks could kill. “I hate the both of you,” he said slowly.

 

Isaac and Stiles elected to ignore him (again) and instead sang along to  _Come and Get It_  loudly and obnoxiously.

 

Jackson decided right then and there that as soon as he got out of the car he was going to kick  _both_  their asses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> selena gomez is great and i don't care what anyone else says


	4. 4. —would you like fries with that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "chicken nuggets are the only reason i believe in god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was very loosely based on a tumblr text post i saw that said something like "don't ever associate with people who think they're too good for mcdonald's." that is very good life advice.

**4\. —would you like fries with that?**

 

Stiles rubbed at his eyes, tiredly. It felt like he’d been driving for _days_ but it’d really only been—he checked his cellphone—twelve hours. God, twelve hours on the road. And with _Jackson_ in the car. And no one was dead or anything. Amazing.

 

He deserved a medal or trophy or—or a a giant vanilla sundae, with like 3 feet of whipped cream and chocolate syrup and a cherry on top—but not those bright red maraschino cherries those were nasty as shit okay but maybe one of those dark cherries because those were actually pretty good and—

 

He was really hungry right now. An upcoming sign informed him of a McDonald’s up ahead in the next turnoff. They probably didn’t have a giant vanilla sundae but shit, he was not gonna be picky. When the turnoff came up he went into it, finding the McDonald’s quickly and found a spot in the parking lot where he, you know, parked.

 

Stiles glanced at the rest of the boys. All sleeping. So obviously the only thing to do was to blare the horn really loudly and wake them up. Which he definitely did.

 

_“Mother—”_

 

_“What the shit—”_

 

_“STILINSKI—”_

 

Stiles grinned at all of them. “GOOD MORNING STARSHINE... _sss_? Starshines? Yeah.”

 

They stared at him.

 

“Stiles,” Isaac said, rubbing at his eyes, “What?”.

 

“It’s lunch time!”  
.

.

Somehow Jackson ended up on the line ordering for everyone (he didn’t sign up for this, did he _look_ like a frickin’ waiter? no.) and at a _McDonald’s_ no less. He crossed his arms and scowled. He definitely would not be eating here. Not only was the food terrible but the entirety of the restaurant was horrid.

 

And _fattening_.

 

Jackson moved up, finally ( _finally_ —why did so many people come to this shitty restaurant) reaching the register. He squinted up at the menu.

 

“Welcome to McDonald’s, may I take your order?” the cashier said. Jackson glanced over at her, boredly.

 

She let out a squeak when his eyes met hers, straightened up and smiled charmingly, batting her eyelashes.

 

Jackson smirked.  
.

.

“Did you get my food?” Stiles asked immediately when Jackson arrived back at the car.

 

“No,” he said, settling into the backseat, “But I _did_ get the cute little cashier’s phone number.” He smirked and waved a napkin with a phone number scrawled on it, remembering the _adorable_ way she blushed (adorable as she may have been, Jackson thought and crumpled up the napkin and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans, she wasn’t really his type).

 

Stiles stared at him for a moment. Jackson rolled his eyes and then Stiles got out of the car. Jackson looked at Scott who only shrugged. Isaac simply sat back to watch how things would play out (he had a feeling that he was going to be very amused in a short amount of time. Honestly, there was never a dull moment with Stiles around).

 

The door on Jackson’s side opened up to reveal a VERY ANGRY STILES. He pulled Jackson out of the car with great force.

 

“JACKSON YOU _ASSHOLE_ GO GET ME MY FUCKING BIG MAC,” he screamed and pushed him in the direction of the fast food place. Stiles didn't see him roll his eyes but he  _did_ see the middle finger raised in the air as Jackson walked. Stiles resisted the urge to stick his tongue out in a childish manner (because what would be the point if Jackson couldn't  _see it_?).

 

“Oh, dude,” Isaac said, sticking his head out the window, “Tell him to get chicken nuggets too.”

 

Stiles nodded once.

 

“AND GET ISAAC HIS CHICKEN NUGGETS,” he yelled after him and then added as an afterthought, “IF THEY AREN’T 10 PIECE DON’T EVEN BOTHER COMING BACK.”

 

Isaac stuck his hand out the window and Stiles promptly high-fived him.


	5. hitchhiker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh come on those dreamy blue eyes just _scream_ 'murder'. How do you not see that?"

* * *

 

**5\. — hitchhiker**

 

* * *

 

The sun was just starting to set when Scott woke up. Waking up near the end of the day was very weird. This road trip was seriously messing up his sleeping schedule (inwardly he shuddered, he’d kind of sounded just like _Jackson_ ). Some time ago Scott and Isaac had switched positions, deciding to rotate so that everyone had a chance at shotgun. Except Jackson, because as Stiles put it “I don’t want that McDonald’s hating asshat to sit next to me” to which Jackson promptly smacked the back of his head and told him he didn’t want to sit next to him _anyway_. Loser. Scott then had to remind them that they were not six years old anymore so if they’d please shut up thanks.

 

When Scott looked over at Stiles, his friend looked very energized. Almost unhealthily so; his eyes were wide open, one hand was on the steering wheel while the other tapped his knee at a quick pace.

 

“Dude, uh...” Scott started and then he noticed the can of Monster in the cupholder between them, “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine, fine. Totally ace, just needed a pick-me-up for the rest of the night. I can’t fall asleep at the wheel y’know.” His words were rushed. His fingers tapped even faster against his knee. Scott raised an eyebrow as he picked up the can of the energy drink. It was completely empty.

 

“You drank _all_ of this?” he asked a little concerned.

 

“Plus four others.”

 

“That’s...not good,” Scott said, “I heard this stuff can give you heart attacks.”

 

Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know I feel like I could run a couple marathons. But at the same time I kind of can’t feel my toes so yeah there’s that.” He paused. “I also have to pee really badly.”

 

Scott shook his head. A flash of tan caught his attention. “Stiles look out!” he yelled pointing towards the man in the tan trenchcoat who’d just walked onto the road, appearing out of _nowhere_.

 

Stiles swerved and braked suddenly, causing the car to jerk forward viciously. In the backseat Isaac and Jackson had woken up, looking both confused and slightly horrified.

 

“What’s going on?!” Isaac asked, eyes wide in complete bewilderment. Jackson clutched at his chest, trying to control his breathing and not have a heart attack.

 

“I ALMOST KILLED A MAN I THINK OH MY GOD,” Stiles screamed. He shared a glance with Scott and they both scrambled out of the car. The man was still standing there, blinking dazedly at them and shielding his eyes from the bright headlights of the Jeep.

 

“ _Scott he’s got blood all over him!_ ”  Stiles half-whispered verging on hysterical.

 

“Stiles calm down,” Scott said even though he was trying not to panic himself. He looked over at the man. “Are you okay? Do you need help?” He took a cautious step closer.

 

“ _Scott!_ ”

 

He gave Stiles a quick just-let-me-handle-this look and continued on. Stiles flailed about and Scott ignored him. The man in the tan trenchcoat seemed to recognize that he was being talked to, Scott’s words finally registering.

 

“I...could use a telephone if you have one,” the stranger said. He paused for a moment. “Also, if it isn’t too much to ask, will you drive me somewhere?”

 

“Uh, sure.”

 

Stiles made a sort of strangled sound.

.

.

The car ride was awkwardly quiet. The stranger sat in the back seat, near the window next to Isaac. Isaac couldn’t help but to stare at him in wonder, even Scott kept sneaking curious looks behind him. Jackson had his eyes closed in an attempt to pretend that none of them existed. Stiles shook his leg out of nervous habit as he drove and _really_ hoped that Scott hadn’t just invited some sort of serial killer psychopath into his car.

 

The man shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

 

“It isn’t mine,” he said.

 

“What?” Isaac asked, blinking.

 

“The blood,” he clarified, “It’s not mine. I’m fine.”

 

Isaac nodded his head slowly. “That’s...good to know.”

 

“ _Scott_ ,” Stiles whispered harshly, eyes wide.

 

“I was attacked,” he continued, “In the woods.”

 

“Scott!” Stiles squeaked, now completely sure that there was definitely a weirdo in the backseat of his Jeep. Scott just gave him a look that said ‘ _please calm down_.’ Stiles stared at him as if he were insane. What was wrong with everyone in this car. DID THEY NOT SEE THE POTENTIAL THREAT HERE, LIKE SERIOUSLY THIS IS LIKE THE BEGINNING OF A SLASHER MOVIE.

 

He snuck a glance behind him. The man noticed and offered an unsure smile. Stiles quickly turned his gaze back to the road in front of him.

 

The guy was _definitely_ a weirdo.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love surprise crossovers


	6. 6. —not natural

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> right, so, that was _definitely_ a knife.

* * *

**6\. —not natural**

* * *

 

It was basically a staring competition between the two groups. They were alone in the parking lot behind a shopping mall. Which Stiles thought was pretty weird since it was the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday. He chalked it up to the mall was probably really shitty. Or abandoned. Whatever. Same difference.

 

Actually, now that Stiles thought about it, it sort of looked as if they were participating in some kind of illegal trade-off. They did look kind of suspicious. He hoped a cop wouldn’t pass by.

 

Stiles eyed the two men in front of them—tough looking, dressed in layers and dark jeans even though it was _summer_. The taller one looked friendly enough, and had an expression that said he kind of just wanted to get out of there already. The other one was inspecting the potential serial killer in the tan trenchcoat (wow that was a mouthful) and the dried blood stains on his clothes. He eyed the boys suspiciously, like he’d flay them alive if they gave him a reason and— _holy shit was that a knife_.

 

Stiles eyes widened. The potential serial killer had led them to two more potential serial killers and now they were all going to _die._

 

Stiles flailed his arms in panic. “ _Scott_!” he said. Scott ignored him. The tall one gave him a funny look and Stiles froze.

 

The potential serial killer was smiling innocently.

 

“Dean, Sam” he said, “These very nice young men helped me find you.”

 

“Thanks,” the taller one—Sam, said politely, “We’ve been looking for him forever.”

 

“It’s nothing. We kind of found him by accident,” Scott explained, humble as always.

 

Jackson snorted. “Stiles,” he said, nodding his head in his direction, “Almost ran him over with his ugly ass jeep.”

 

Isaac shook his head. “Jackson, really was that necessary—”

 

“WHY WOULD YOU TELL THEM THAT?”

 

“Is that why you’re covered in blood Castiel?” Dean asked and turned his glare towards Stiles who kind of hid behind Isaac.

 

“It was an _accident_ ,” he said and then noticed that didn’t really help his case at all, “He was already bloodied up! Said he was attacked in the forest!”

 

Dean turned his attention back to the potential serial killer.

 

“Cas. S’that true?”

 

“Yes. I took care of it though,” he said and then noticing the teenagers strange looks, “I’ll tell you more about it in the car.”

 

Dean nodded, grabbed his keys from his jacket pocket and began to walk away towards the black Impala a few feet away. Sam rolled his eyes and then looked at the four of them apologetically.

 

“Thank you,” he said and then went after Dean.

 

Castiel started to follow them but stopped and turned to Scott, looking him in the eyes.

 

“I am extremely grateful for all of your help,” he said and smiled again, then walked after the two men. The boys watched him go, all silently agreeing that this was sort of the weirdest day _ever_. Scott felt sort of dizzy.

 

“Did I just get blessed?” he wondered out loud as they all piled into the Jeep once again. Isaac shrugged. Jackson ignored everyone and checked his cell phone for any text messages. Stiles gunned it out of there.

 

After a few minutes of driving Isaac finally spoke up.

 

“Was it me or did that one guy have a knife?”

  
“FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guessed spn as the crossover then kudos to _you_


	7. 7.--pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> male bonding at it's finest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the annoying roommate video always manages to bring tears to my eyes

* * *

7\. — pillow talk

* * *

 

Isaac let himself relax against the mattress. _Finally_ a real bed. Sleeping in the car was horrible and made his neck sore. He was sort of glad that Jackson had tagged along. This hotel room was pretty nice and not creepy looking and probably not haunted or some shit, like that other motel that would not be named or even thought about for more than five seconds for the sake of his mental health.

 

He stretched his arms out to rest behind his head and closed his eyes as silence fell over them.

 

It didn’t last very long.

 

“Is anyone else suddenly not tired?” Stiles asked from his bed.

 

“Nope just you,” Isaac said hoping that Stiles would take the hint and just go to sleep. He heard the creak of the mattress as Stiles sat up, doing the exact opposite of taking the hint.

 

“It’s only like 11:30,” Stiles said, “Let’s talk.”

 

“What are you? A thirteen year old girl?” Jackson said and then with fake enthusiasm, “Let’s talk about boys and who we’re taking to prom and our _hair_.” He scowled and turned over on his side.

 

“You’d probably secretly enjoy it,” Stiles shot back with narrowed eyes.

 

“I am going to destroy you. One day. It will _happen_.”

 

Scott snored lightly. Isaac was both envious and impressed at how quickly he’d fallen asleep.

 

“This is sort of like a sleepover. With guys. That’s kind of cool. We should have a pillow fight, I always wanted to do that.”

 

“Stiles go to sleep” Jackson said from across the room. Isaac covered his face with his pillow and tried to ignore them.

 

“I bet I would win. I mean you guys might be stronger but I have the brains. Better battle strategies I mean, really—”

 

“I’m gonna give you one more chance to shut the fuck up,” said Jackson, voice muffled by his own pillow. This was his chance to finally get some actual rest and Stiles was ruining it with his voice and overall tendency to act like a five year old on a sugar high at the worst of times. Whoever invented energy drinks deserved to be shot.

 

Stiles sighed suddenly and fell back on the bed. “I’m _hungry_.”

 

“So go to sleep,” Isaac called out.

 

“Um, that does not solve my hunger problem,” he said.

 

“What if I gave you a knuckle sandwich?” Jackson replied angrily.

 

Stiles snorted. “Ew, what are you eleven? Who even _says_ that anymore? Laaaame.” Jackson’s embarrassment was overshadowed by his intense desire to punch the little shit (because that is exactly what he was) in the face.

 

“Just go to sleep already.”

 

“SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK,” Stiles exclaimed. Jackson rolled his eyes.

 

“You’re so annoying,” he said.

 

“Your _face_ is annoying,” Stiles retorted automatically.

 

“Children please,” Isaac said, tired and incredibly annoyed. He wanted to go to sleep, not mediate between the two of them. That was _Scott’_ s job.

 

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry,” Stiles said not sounding sorry in the slightest. Jackson rolled his eyes and attempted to go to sleep. Isaac did the same, feeling relieved at the newfound quiet.

 

And then Stiles started humming the opening theme to _Law and Order_.

 

Jackson sat straight up, jumping out of the bed and grabbing his pillow. “YOU PIECE OF—”

 

“JACKSON NO—WAIT. ISAAC HELP ME.”

 

Isaac looked over to where Jackson was currently trying to smother Stiles with his pillow. Stiles tried to fend him off as best as he could. Isaac almost felt bad. Almost.

 

“You brought this on yourself. I’m going to sleep.”

 

“I’M SORRRRRY NO—JACKSONGEHOFFAME.”

  
Scott turned over on his side and mumbled something about dragons.


End file.
